That Special Day A Batman short story
by Starlord
Summary: Even though his parents have been gone many years, there are still memories that Bruce Wayne most confront and deal with.


That Special Day

Batman and characters are property of DC Comics and Time Warner Company and I am not using this for money in any way, shape, or form.

**Then:**

"Bruce, let's go!" his mother called from the bottom of the staircase.

Thomas Wayne came up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her. She was the most beautiful human being he had ever met and each day she just grew even more radiant.

"It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?" she asked him as he held her tightly and kissed her on the cheek from behind.

"Mmm, every night is beautiful with you in it," he whispered in her ear and inhaling the perfume that was always intoxicating to him.

She turned around and wrapped her arms around the man she had been married to for well over ten years now.

"You always know just what to say, Dr. Wayne."

"It's easy when it comes to you, Mrs. Wayne," he replied as he turned his head and brought his lips to hers.

A young Bruce Wayne leaned over the banister at the top of the stairs and watched his parents with both curiosity and enjoyment. He loved it when they were like this. It gave him a warm feeling and made his realize how loved he was. If fact, he was the product of the love that his parents had and that had grown everyday since they had met. At nine, he was very smart and realized just how much love was in their home. He also thought kissing was gross.

"Bruce?" his mother called again.

"Coming!" he shouted back as he went bounding down the steps.

**Now:**

This is my city, and they know it. Every low life scum up to every drug lord this side of the Mississippi knows it.

During the day there is little I can do, at least the stuff that really needs to be done; but ,when night falls, then it is my turn to strike back for all the victims in the city who's trespassers go unpunished.

My father, Thomas Wayne, gave this city much in his short life. He was in the process of helping rejuvenate the city when he was struck down by the bullet of a common thief. Soon after his death, the city took a downward spiral and never came back up again.

I'm waiting in the shadows on a roof across from one of Gothams more famous restaurants--"Michelle's". It is known for its steaks and seafood and for its five star rated martini's, since the day it opened almost fifty years ago. Unfortunately the neighborhood that surrounds it hasn't maintained the same popularity.

Back in the day this was considered one of the more glamorous area's in the city. The streets were lined with nightclubs, restaurants and shops that were open almost all night, where now even the homeless stay away from this neighborhood. The wealthy get dropped off at the front door and their eyes avoid everything but the entrance. Just another example of why the city is continuing to deteriorate.

Michelle's…the one place in this city that Bruce Wayne never goes to anymore.

**Then:**

As soon as the Wayne family entered the restaurant, they were greeted by the overpowering odor's of a four star restaurant and all it's delectable trappings. Well done steaks and market priced lobster were adorning many of the candle lit table's. The low candle lighting and the glow of a large fireplace in the center of the room gave the already warm atmosphere an even cozier feeling.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne," the tuxedo wearing host exclaimed as they walked through the door. "Your usual table?"

"Hello Frederick, and yes that would be wonderful," Thomas Wayne replied and grinned at his wife who played with a knowing smile of her own, as if there were a private joke that they were at that moment sharing.

Frederick directed them to the table just center of the fireplace and they could all feel the heat coming from the flames and the embers. Thomas winked at his son as he pulled out his wife's chair for her, "I don't know about you son, but I'm getting the same thing I got last year."

Bruce laughed quietly, he knew what his father was going to get, it was the same thing that he got last year, and the year before that. His father had said it was a tradition from the first time he had ever been there and he would never change it as long as he continued to go there; Petite Filet Medallions in a brandy and mushroom sauce and lobster tail.

After they had sat and Thomas ordered a bottle of their best champagne, he reached out and held his wife's hand smiled as he met his son's eyes from across the table.

"I couldn't ask for a more perfect evening," he said. "This day will always be special to me and I will always want to share it with the two of you and maybe someday son, also your wife and children.

You see Bruce, this is the day I proposed to your mother, here at this table. This is the day that is only second to your birth that will ring as the happiest moment in my life."

His wife smiled at him, "The hands of a surgeon, the brains of a philanthropist, and the heart of a poet…my husband," and she leaned over and gave him a kiss and placed her forehead on his as they smiled and looked into each others eyes.

**Now:**

…and I've never been back there since. Two weeks later my parents were gunned down in front of my eyes and from that day forward there have been many places in this city that Bruce Wayne refuses to go. Places that still hurt, because I can still see them there, happy and content.

I'm so lost in my own thoughts that I almost miss seeing them as they round the corner. Careless of me. They walk down the street like they own it. Street punks, and disorganized one's at that. None of them can be any older then nineteen. They are also the gang that has been terrorizing the patrons of Michelle's for the last couple of weeks. Small time stuff in the grand scheme of things. Demanding money and jewels in exchange for safe passage out of the neighborhood. So far none of them have even used a weapon of any sort. My plan is simple. Scare the hell out of them and hope that it is enough to keep them from here, if not maybe change their ways all together.

I watch as the door to the restaurant swing open and a couple walk out. They're in the autumn of their years and I can tell the way they are holding hands that they are still obviously in love. It is also obvious that they are very wealthy.

The street gang moves in…all five of them. They circle the couple and I can see what appears to be their leader demanding something from them.

As the couple begin to hand over their stuff, I fire the cable to the building across the street and jump off of the one I am on.

There is a moment before the cable tightens and before I begin my descent that I am suspended in the air…motionless. That is the moment when I feel the most free, when I am finally at peace with myself. It is a moment that disappears almost as quickly as it comes.

The cable connects and I am once again swinging into action. As I come down I strike at the man-child who is furthest from the gang. He doesn't even have time to scream out…just the way I like it.

Two others are smarter then I give them credit for, the run. The fourth one is not as smart. In fact as he raises his fists and lunges towards me I have to admit that he is extremely stupid. Wisdom, I suppose, is something that many acquire as they get older; although, most never acquire it at all. The fourth one is on the ground with a broken nose before he realizes he's even been hit.

The final kid is the stupidest, the leaders usually are. He pulls and knife and puts it up to the woman's throat, "Don't take another step man, or the old broad gets an extra happy face."

He's not even holding the knife the right way and I could be on top of him way before he even begins to cut her, but I don't take chances with civilians, and I don't let them tell me what to do, either.

"Are you that stupid, kid," I say to him, not moving a muscle but dropping my voice even further into the lower octaves. "I let you go tonight and you better keep running because you will be the sole focal point of my nights until I catch you. You draw even a drop of blood on that woman and you are still going to be carted off to jail, only with the possibility of loss of limb. So you've got the choice, do you surrender now or do you go down hard on a night you're not expecting it."

My eye's never leave his and I can see the wheels inside that drug addled brain of his try and work it through. I'm nothing if not patient, so I stand there waiting. I ignore the crying of the old lady and the pleads of her husband.

After what seems like minutes, he drops the weapon and raises his hands. That's two more times that I have been proven wrong tonight. Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age and this kid is obviously not as stupid as I thought. I cuff him to the flag pole outside of the restaurant and turn to go when I hear my name called by the old woman.

"Thank you Batman," she gushes in her excitement. "I've always stood up for you to all my friends. There are people out there that believe in you."

I do not return the conversation but I nod at her. To talk to the civilians lessens the bat and makes me more of the man, and I can not allow that.

"My husband and I were celebrating our anniversary."

She's starting to babble, time for me to leave.

"Well not our marriage anniversary, but the anniversary of when he proposed to me."

I stop my turn and stare at them. Did I hear that correctly?

The husband speaks for the first time, "Only the birth of our children comes close to being the second happiest day of our lives. Thank you Batman, for not making this the most tragic."

day of my life."

His eyes are wet, I have to go.

I nod again and fire my cable up into the night sky. It catches and pulls me away from the bizarre and ironic scene that I was just in.

Back on the roof, I watch them leave, and I realize that I am feeling something that I haven't felt in more years then I care to remember.

I pull out Bruce's phone and hit star three. It rings only once when she answers.

"Hello?"

"Selina, it's Bruce."

"Well what do I owe the pleasure," her voice has always sounded like a quiet symphony to me.

"Dinner. I'm hungry. Want to come with me?"

"Well Bruce, this is a surprise. Yes, I would love to come with you. Where are we going if I may ask?"

"Michelle's. I'm in the mood for Petite Filet's smothered in a brandy and mushroom sauce…"

The End


End file.
